


After Me Comes The Flood

by TonantzinErde



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonantzinErde/pseuds/TonantzinErde
Summary: There is a story within every story, the river under the river. Aerith never told her comrades about Zack, and neither about a relationship that preceded even him. A relationship she struggles to admit to herself, but whose implications run deep and may affect the outcome of their mission. As her feelings for Cloud mature, what will she do with the secrets of the past her heart is holding? And if her visions ever become the truth, how will she face her fate - and Sephiroth?
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Sephiroth, Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife
Comments: 19
Kudos: 36





	1. They'll inherit your blood

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is my first attempt at a fanfic after many, many, years, but watching the FFVII Remake gameplay I've felt so inspired I couldn't help myself from writing. Reading the amazing content on this site has also pushed me to give it a try!
> 
> A few disclaimers:  
> I haven't personally played the Remake since as a new mom I wouldn't have time for it, but eternal breastfeeding sessions allow me to watch YouTube videos and get the gist of it. Still, characters may be out of character at times. And timelines might not be entirely accurate, but hey! We're in a world where alternate timelines are possible, so I'm taking full literary freedom with that.  
> Also, English is not my first language and I've written this using my phone, again while breastfeeding (mostly).  
> So please don't be too ruthless with your comments! Still, all comments and feedback welcome.
> 
> The idea is to have several chapters, but my writing schedule is... Hectic and unpredictable (thanks, baby!), So I'll do my best...
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the height of the Genesis Wars, Sephiroth struggles with his role and identity in the light of the information that has recently reached him. He looks for a place where he might find some peace of mind.

The sun was still high and burning when he cleaned the blood from Masamune with a dedicated brown cloth. A sweat had broken on his forehead, more from the heat than the inexisting exertion killing them had caused. Once he began making the way back, nobody looking at him would have been able to guess what he had just done. No strain on his muscles, no blood on his uniform, no wounds to tend to.

_The wounds that matter remain under the skin._

"Well, that was fast. Phew! Man, I'll never tire of seeing you in action, but you leave little for the rest of us!"

His comrade was standing next to him with his hands on his hips. The black hair only accentuated the unnatural iridescent blue of his eyes.

Sephiroth smiled dryily.  
"The pleasure seems to be lessening of late."

"Oh man, tell me about it! This mission is irky business. It's been getting to me since the beginning. But I get it, you knew him much better than I ever did."

Sephiroth nodded, and silently began disposing of the bodies, piling them up before the cleanup team would collect them. Nobody wanted to add rotting flesh to the already nauseous stench of the slums.

"We are done for today. You are dismissed, comrade Fair. We have an early start tomorrow."

"Yes, sir!" Zack Fair replied. He bowed and made his way towards the train platform jogging energetically.

Sephiroth remained on site long after the rest were gone, squatting with one knee on the ground, staring at the pool of dark blood dehydrating under the scorching heat. There had been 3 copies, mere ghost shades of what Genesis had been. Cheap imitations that he had swiftly passed under his blade. He hadn't looked at them in the eye - imitations, yes, but still made of flesh and bone. With his face.

Something had been growing heavy in his chest since all this began. Whatever darkness he harboured already was now tainted by a sour taste. A creeping agitation had started to fill his inner reflection space.

_There is a reason why SOLDIERs are not trained to think. Or to feel, for that matter. How could a man otherwise kill his best friend over and over?_

The slums were a haphazardous maze of makeshift streets that he despised having to navigate. The fear and reverence in the eyes he encountered often passed unnoticed, but today he felt uncentered, with a thinner skin. If he started questioning his orders his entire identity would be jeopardised, he was acutely aware of that. However, it kept gnawing at him. Three more. Added to the tally of several dozens. He should be insensitized to it by now.

_But those bloodshot eyes were human. Had been. Genesis' eyes._

"Excuse me, madam", he suddenly turned to speak to a plump woman in he 50's. "Where do the good people of this sector go when they need to find peace and quiet?"

She gaped at him opening and closing her mouth like a fish, his looming figure standing tall over her. She stuttered, "th-, there is a- a church, very-very old-, mister Sephiroth. In ruins-... But quite... Love-, lovely."

"Yes, that would fit what I'm looking for. Would you be so kind as to point me in the right direction?"

He offered her a strained smile as he uttered his thanks and turned to leave.

_No wonder people get lost with that kind of directions._

As he made his way through the serpentine makeshift streets, the ache in his chest grew heavier. He kept seeking for solace everywhere he went, a place that could ease his mind and quiet down the voice that looped the same questions on repeat. What Genesis said. What Hojo denied. The doubts that were eating him inside out about everything that he had stood for until now.


	2. I, oh!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeking refuge from his internal turmoil, Sephiroth finds an old church in the sector 5 slums. A young girl, cheerful and shy in equal measure, encounters him there. Although they've just met, there lingers a sense of foreboding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to imagine what it would have looked like if Aerith had met Sephiroth even before she met Zack. Following the hints of the remake, there seems to be something under the surface that only she knows about.
> 
> The OG timeline year would be during the Genesis Wars.
> 
> Looking forward to any comments! The story may take a bit before it finally takes off, but bear with me! (I'm myself curious to see where this goes...)

Even the perfect mindless killing machine could appreciate beauty on the rare occasions he encountered it. The trickle of light over the wooden structures of benches and columns was otherworldly. Made out of single rays filtering through small breaches in the roof structure, they came together to weave an oasis of light. And growing underneath, the unthinkable - yellow flowers, drinking avidly every photon that touched their leaves. Their perfume reached him all the way from the other side of the building and came over him like a wave.

He approached the light in silence and slowly entered it, as through a luminescent curtain that veiled the threshold to the numinous. The scattered rays bumped off his silver hair in every direction, making him glow. He slowly kneeled to pick one flower and wished he could drug himself with its fragrance. What kind of magic could make flowers bloom in the contaminated desert of Midgar? He closed his eyes and tilted his head backwards, bathing in the soft caress of the light. For a few fleeting moments, his heart was at ease.

He heard light footsteps approach well before they entered the building, and with his heightened senses he was alert and his thumb ready on the hilt. The creak of the old door, heavy with dust and woodworm, echoed in the old structure.

"Oh! Excuse me!" said a young voice. He opened his eyes and looked towards the main entrance. "It's rare to find someone else here!"

A girl in a dress. Younger even than he had inferred from her voice, long Auburn hair tied up in a braid, a basket hanging from her forearm. She approached him with that light footing that seemed entirely out of place in such a decrepit environment, and when she stepped into the light she looked straight at him with deep green eyes. A flicker of recognition reflected on her face, and after a moment's hesitation and a deep breath, she opened the hand that had reached to her chest and extended it towards him. Her gaze was kept down, heavy under the formality of the salute.

"Pleased to meet you, mister Sephiroth."

He cleared his throat, taken aback by the sudden change, and stepped forward to shake her hand. "Likewise. So you know who I am."

"Of course!" she exclaimed, letting go gently. Aware of her sudden excitement, she tuned down her voice. "We don't own a television but your picture has been all over the place lately, with the war and all... And now you're in my church... So soon", she added, more to herself than to him.

He paused for a moment, unsure in the silence that ensued where the conversation should go next. "So this your church, then?" he asked.

She blushed intensely and looked at her hands. "Well, not mine, as in mine... But nobody else comes here, which is a shame. I find it so peaceful. The best refuge I could ever hope for. Now that you mention it though," she looked up and her gaze peered around the temple, "maybe that's why its so great, because nobody ever comes. Like a secret haven or something like that. I would stop coming if it were full of people, and the flowers probably would stop growing. Well, of course I wouldn't stop coming altogether, somebody has to care for the flowers... It's just that sometimes it feels good to be alone. But not too much, or else it gets lonely! Wouldn't you agree, erm... sir?" She bent slightly and tilted her face to look at him with her hands behind her back.

After a strained pause, he laughed. Hard. His laughter boomed within the empty carcass of the church, with a tinge of rust to it from disuse. When he regained his composture, he bowed at her lightly.

"Thank you, miss. I'm sorry if I startled you. It's not often that I meet someone who can talk so much, so fast, and take my mind off my worries. And please don't call me "sir" - I warrant I'm only a few years older than yourself."

She blushed again. "Is that so?" she almost whispered to herself. She took in his long silver hair, his towering stature, and the atemporal features of his face. He looked young and extremely old at the same time. "How old are you, then?"

He smiled softly. "Would you like to take a guess?"

"Oh, I'm really bad at guessing people's age!" A cheeky smile lit up her face. "But... Alright, I'll give it a try... You need to be quiet while I concentrate, though."

Sephiroth bowed his head in agreement. The girl began walking around him, making appraising noises as though she was evaluating him positively. She gingerly took his sword hand into hers and slid off his black leather glove. He held his breath in surprise - was this girl insane? She seemed to be oblivious to how daring she was around him - the most dangerous man in the planet. With stoic perseverance, he remained silent, waiting. She carefully observed his hand, caressing it lightly with her fingers as she followed the lines on his skin, her eyebrows furrowed as though reading from a book written in a foreign language. She let go of his hand and he instantly missed the warmth of her touch. She stood before him and closed her eyes for a moment. She then opened them wide, as in astonishment, and she grew serious, almost concerned, her previous playful demeanor gone.

"You can't be older than thirty, but it seems like your body carries the weight of several lifetimes. You look so young, you should look bright and full of energy, but there's something opaque, something that takes the light away. Plus you've probably seen and done so much, your hands are proof of that, even if they are soft enough to think you have never wielded that huge sword of yours..." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. It's just that your attitude and speech seem to belong to a much older person. But back to the point, I guess you must be... Thirty...?"

Sephiroth chuckled. It was starting to dawn on him how she didn't seem at all daunted by his presence - something that he had grown so accustomed to, he almost took for granted with every human interaction he engaged in.

"Almost", he responded. He looked at the rays of sunlight caressing the flowerbed. "Something opaque, you said, that makes me look older..." he continued, more to himself than to her.

She smiled at him warmly. "So... 29?" she pressed on.

"I'm 22, in fact, if the files are correct."

She stared at him, incredulous.  
"Only 22? Well, we have to do something to cheer you up, mister, so you begin to look your age! I mean, don't get me wrong, you look so handsome with that silver hair and brooding stare, I'm sure you've been told before. The contrast is quite interesting if you ask me!" She added, smiling mischievously. The explicit compliment caught him off guard.

"I -" he began. His beeper rang loudly, tearing an echo from the emptiness of the church. Before turning the annoying sound off, he clenched his right hand several times, as if suppressing the desire to smash it right there and then.

"Duty calls, huh?"

Another pause. Did she sound... disappointed? "I'm afraid so." His expression turned somber, his wide shoulders hunched imperceptibly under some invisible weight.

"Well, mister, it was a pleasure to meet you. I mean, meet you in person..." She bowed ceremoniously.

He bowed in return. "Please call me Sephiroth. Thank you for this pleasant afternoon, miss...?"

"Oh, silly me, I didn't even introduce myself! What bad manners!" She giggled. She then cleared her throat. "Aerith", she said, and brought her fist to rest on her heart.

"Aerith", he repeated gravely looking into her eyes with a nod, committing it to memory.


	3. It's not my choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his office, Sephiroth and Zack discuss the current state of affairs. Sephiroth struggles between his duty and his suspicions. What does loyalty really entail, when you are not the one making the calls?
> 
> (Thanks for reading!)

No flowers, anywhere. Sephiroth had never quite noticed before how devoid of natural life the topside of Midgar was. There were magestic buildings that aimed to touch the very sky, a feat of architecture and engineering unmatched anywhere else in the world. There were quiet and classy neighbourhoods, with houses made out of red brick, and grey cobblestone covering the pavement. Busy railway lines taking passengers to and fro, spiraling around the Shinra megalith and uniting the topside to the slums. But not a single blade of grass.

From his office he had a vantage view of the western sectors of the city. One could easily trace the itinerary of the wall, and in the distance, see the sunset ripping stark shadows from the wasteland that surrounded them. Sephiroth finished scanning the file and sighed audibly.

"General, sir - what response should I convey?"

He looked up at the officer standing at the other side of his wide table. Under Sephiroth's gaze, the weight of anguish held steadfast at the base of his stomach, and he immediately bowed. Sephiroth threw the clipboard on the polished surface, and it slid towards the officer. He got up from his chair in one elegant motion, and turned to look out the window.

"You are dismissed, sergeant. Do not bring this issue to my attention again."

"But, - sir! I've been issued -"

"I believe I have made myself sufficiently clear." Sephiroth cut in. "This is a direct order from your general. You would do well to remember to whom you owe your loyalty."

The man bowed again, his fists clenched to his sides. A drop of sweat was forming over his brow and his heartbeat pumped hard in his ears. Sephiroth smiled to himself, picturing the man without even needing to look at him - he could almost taste his tension and embarrassment.

"Sir, at your command!" He managed to stutter. "Please excuse my impertinence, sir!"

Sephiroth acknowledged him with a grunt.

_Of course, it's not me to whom you truly owe your loyalty. I'm not the one feeding your family._

The man picked up the clipboard carefully, and he noticed his hands were trembling. As he turned the doorknob to leave, there was a double knock and the door opened. Zack Fair stood aside to let the staggering sergeant through first, and then let himself in.

"Sir!" Zack saluted his general with a curt bow, and turned to look at the door as it closed behind the sergeant. "What did you do to that one, huh? Do you think it's a smart policy to scare all the boys to death? We need them to get the job done, you know?"

Sephiroth turned and saluted Zack with a nod. Zack Fair was the man with whom he had worked the closest since the defection of SOLDIERs and the disappearance of Angeal. He evaluated him gravely: younger than himself, he carried himself with an ever-energetic and cheerful attitude. He has just been promoted to first-class; he was strong, and more importantly, he was loyal and reliable - rare these days. As much as he resembled his tutor, though, he was no Angeal. Sephiroth had to reassess every time how much information to disclose to him.

"The Turks continue changing their strategy to get SOLDIER to support their dirty work", he said, pointing at the door.

"Ha! Afraid to come to you directly, are they?" Zack snickered. He shook his head in disbelief. "Oh boy, they must be pretty desperate if they're resorting to lower ranks to deliver the message."

"Hmm", Sephiroth assented as he made his way back to his chair.

"What did they want us to do?" Zack asked.

"Kidnap children", he replied, matter-of-factly. He registered the surprise in Zack's reaction.

"Children? Whatever for?" he asked. "Not for Hojo, right?"

"It is not our concern. SOLDIER has more pressing matters to attend to than chasing after children. If the Turks can't handle that themselves, they are less able than I thought. Asking for our support can very well entail brutal consequences, and I don't want any more dead children at my feet."

The silence that ensued grew heavy between them. Zack exhaled. The war with Wutai was over, and he had heard stories about the horrors that were perpetrated by Shinra that he was unaware of at the time. The company kept choosing cruelty over clemency after every battle. Sephiroth had been hailed a hero; barely a teenager when it all began, but already a renowned combattant and strategist. And a ruthless one. If only half the stories were true, Sephiroth carried deeper scars than anyone should.

_The scars brought by following orders while high on mako and andrenaline. If you are a pawn, how much of it can you blame on yourself?_

He considered asking about it, but seeing the strain on the general's face, he decided to drop it for now. Wutai and its nightmares would have to wait, for SOLDIER was now fighting another war, and with maimed forces this time.

Sephiroth curled his fingers into a fist. "SOLDIER will not take part in anything that could jeopardize our integrity as a military force, so long as I have a say in it."

"And do we?" Zack asked. "Have a say, I mean."

"For now." Sephiroth pushed his hair away from his face. The elegance of the gesture could not hide the trace of anxiety he was feeling. "The mass desertion has been a severe blow."

"I know, Kunsel filled me in already. It seems those are the Genesis copies I fought in Wutai, isn't it? And now the ones that we didn't kill are swarming Midgar and other cities."

Sephiroth looked at Zack, once again considering his options. How much of the truth to disclose always seemed a complicated labyrinth to navigate. Zack was hierarchically his subordinate, but he was the only fellow first-class SOLDIER left.

"Kunsel, was it? I see." He decided to take his chances this time. "He is right. The technology requires human vessels that can carry the genetic material. It seems Genesis was experimented on quite heavily, and there is some sort of mutation in his DNA that takes over the phenotypic characteristics of the vessel. Hence the resemblance."

"Why would they do that? The copies are weaklings in comparison to Genesis."

"My theory is that Shinra had been struggling to find recruits who met the requirements to be trained as first-class SOLDIERs. It would not be beyond them to try to find a shortcut, and attempting to clone one of the existing soldiers would be much more profitable. No training required, unbelievably strong, and ready for battle - all in an incredibly short time." He paused. "They've probably been experimenting on the prisoners of war from Wutai all this while. However, I would think the results were... less than satisfactory. Weaklings, as you put it."

"But then, why Genesis?" Zack asked. "I mean, I haven't been approached by Shinra to be part of something like this. Have you?"

"No, I haven't."

"And why Genesis?" Zack continued. "If anything, it would make much more sense to clone you!"

Sephiroth looked at Zack and sat back, entwining his hands.

"Maybe they have attempted to, with all of us."

"What?! What do you mean?"

"Well, picture it like this. What if they did something to you while you were being trained? Did you not sign a contract with Shinra giving them your consent to carry out the necessary tests and experiments required for physical enhancement as a SOLDIER?"

"I did, but I never..."

"Of course, something like this would never have occurred to you. It is quite possible that you didn't even read the entire document before signing it, am I correct?"

Zack looked away, blushing with embarrassment.

"However, this is beyond the point", Sephiroth continued. "If my hypothesis is correct, then it may so be that Genesis discovered this information and is attempting to use the technology against Shinra. It is quite clear he must have convinced the deserters to allow him to experiment on them, maybe with the promise of unprecedented power. But I'm afraid he's probably running up against the same wall Shinra did - the clones are not even close to what Genesis once was."

"So what does he want? Why put up this entire circus?"

_After all, your glory should have been mine._

"He always was an arrogant idiot", Sephiroth whispered, more to himself than to Zack. "Who knows? But because of that coward the war with Wutai took much longer to come to an end. So many lives lost because of his delusions of grandeur."

Zack remained silent. Whatever could he reply to such an assertion? The bitterness was evident in Sephiroth's voice. Then Zack remembered - the adventures of the three young men were already legendary. They were the reason young men like himself enlisted at all.

As if thinking the same thing, Sephiroth exhaled. "And still, they were my brothers."

Zack's response reached him from afar, as if he was trying to talk under water. He strained to make out his words.

" _Will you take flowers to their grave, then?_ "

His vision blurred for a moment and he saw before him a flash of the church in the slums, and the rays of light bathing the yellow flowers. Green eyes, and a smile. Hands clasped together in prayer. The sting of a longing he wasn't sure belonged to him.

He held his forehead with his hand.

"What-? What did you just say?" He stammered.

"What-, What are the orders, sir?", Zack repeated. He seemed concerned. "Are you alright...?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Do not worry about it", said Sephiroth, standing up. Just as quickly, he had regained his composure. "You are to go back to Banora,-"

"Banora?! Is there trouble -?"

"There is a lead. Intel thinks Genesis might have set up base there. You will go there with the Turks to investigate; given that it is Genesis's hometown, you might find more clues as to his whereabouts."

"And... what if we find him?" Zack asked.

Sephiroth turned once more to the window. Midgar was almost submerged in the last remnants of dusk. In a tremorous voice, he began to recite.

" _My friend, the fates are cruel._  
 _There are no dreams, no honour remains_."

"Sir?" Zack asked, confused. Sephiroth turned and nodded once.

"Orders from above: were you to come upon Genesis, you have permission to terminate target."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is taking a longer route than I anticipated when I started off. I *really* wanted to get to the hot stuff sooner, but for some reason this story keeps expanding itself, like it needs to delve into something deeper as well. I guess I'm in for the ride! Comments and feedback welcome!


	4. Be afraid of the lame (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dreams that have been haunting him for the last several days begin to weigh down on Sephiroth. Unable to manage the stress himself, he seeks assistance from someone he used to visit often when he was younger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was getting super long, so I've decided to divide it in two. Hopefully by the end of this one the promise of what's coming next kindles your interest!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The general hadn't been his own self for the last several days. Although his co-workers were used to his almost invisible presence whenever he wasn't away on mission - his secretiveness extended to his entrance and departure from the buildings and he barely spoke to anyone -, even they had glimpsed enough of his face to determine the soldier looked extenuated. They knew better than to dwell on the fact or ask any questions; speculation was rampant nevertheless.

Most assumed it was the last remnants of the Wutai war, which SOLDIER was trying hard to stomp out once and for all. Others guessed it probably had to do with increasing amount of paperwork (what was the point of being the best fighter on the planet if you had to spend your days buried under piles of reports...?). The boldest ones dared imagine something else entirely: maybe a secret mission, or sensuous visits to a lover. None would consider a much more obvious explanation: Sephiroth was living the exhausting double life of those who dream while they sleep.

The degree of lucidity varied from day to day, but ever since that evening in his office, his usually-dreamless nights had become a full-blown theatre, the spectacle leaving him to wake the next morning as though he had been chasing an elusive enemy for hours on end. The more he was able to interact within the oniric space, the more his muscles ached the next morning.

Hojo clicked the on button on the microphone, sheltered in a glass cubicle suspended over the edge of the training field. "General, your performance has been appalling of late. If you are unwilling to focus, please be so kind as to let me know so I can stop wasting my time here."

Sephiroth impaled the last of the pig-like creatures, and in a swift move elevated the corpse still skewered by the blade into the air, and decapitated it before it touched the floor. He had been fighting wearing nothing but his trousers, and sweat glistened as it slid down his torso and back. His bare feet were covered in blood. As he took the cloth to clean the sword from his back pocket, he realised he was panting. Fuck Hojo. He had really pushed him to the limit this time. Or had he?

"My, my, this is unprecedented!" Hojo's voice streamed through the loudspeakers. "Your vitals are skyrocketing - in all these years I've never seen - Why, maybe we should perform a brain scan, it is impossible for the body to suffer such a - No, no, it must be... Sephiroth!" He called. But the soldier had already put his cloak back on and was leaving the facility.

Fuck Hojo.

Venting out while slashing flesh gave him enough of a rush of adrenaline as to wake him from his stupor. He entered the men's changing room, unaware of the trail of bloody foot marks he had left on the corridor. He hanged his cloak and peeled off his trousers. While he waited for the water to heat up, he considered the reflection in the mirror.

As much as it hurt his ego to admit it, Hojo was right. Something was clearly amiss. Of course, he would never acknowledge even a tinge of tiredness to that greedy bastard, but that didn't make the exhaustion any less real. And he knew the dreams were draining him of everything he usually relied on to be able to fit in the shoes the world had given him.

As he stepped into the shower, he let the steaming water soak him completely. The jet of water separated into small affluents that flowed following the shape of his toned muscles, joining under his navel and cascading off from his groin. His erection was poignant, demanding attention. He began stroking it softly, trying in vain to leave his mind blank and relax.

The content of the dreams themselves was nothing out of the ordinary. With slight variations, he found himself within a building in ruins.

_At the far end, an opening of light fell on a pool of water. As he tried to move closer to it, he noticed that bits and pieces of debris were floating around him, suspended in free fall, and he had to push them away to be able to move forward. Then, the girl. She almost always appeared hiding behind a column, motioning to him to get closer. But he couldn't, because his feet were trapped in concrete. Before him, two gravestones, nameless, and a chain leading from his heart to each one._

_Sometimes he tried to break free; others he just stood there, hyperventilating. And always the girl, now praying, kneeling before the pool._

Giving up on any pretense of enjoying himself, he closed the faucet and stepped out of the shower, letting the water drip from his body and feeling the cool contrast of the exterior against his wet skin. He looked at himself in the mirror critically and chuckled.

"Maybe I am getting old, if a bunch of dreams don't even allow me to get off properly", he told his reflection.

By the time night came, he was restless. No matter how many times he woke up and fell asleep again, the same dream repeated before his eyes. His body was asking for something he barely indulged in anymore, his busy brain keeping him detached from his own feeling flesh. He couldn't blow off steam in the training ring at that hour, and getting from the barracks to the Shinra building would be nuisance anyway, so he would have to look for an alternative. Although he hadn't used the service for last two or three years, he knew it was still functioning: he had to sign off the budget papers for the yearly funding it received.

In his mind, it followed the crushing logic of an absolute fact of life: where there was war, there were women in need and men in angst; where the soldiers went, prostitution followed. Where the soldiers dwelled, it flourished. Of course it was no secret - SOLDIER forces were made up almost entirely of young, unattached, hot-headed men, undergoing intense training to become more-than-human creatures. The price they paid was always higher than what they had bargained for, and broken, affluent souls needed the kind of solace only the arms of another can bring. Making feigned affection affordable was Shinra's way of "taking care of the boys". 

"Hello...?" A sultry voice responded on the other side of the line.  
"Ruby", he said.  
"Oh, my...!" she gasped. "I can't believe... Well, this is a surprise." She muffled the microphone and spoke hurried commands.  
"Are you engaged?"  
The deaf sound of distant footsteps reached him through the receiver.  
"Not any more." He could make out her smile as she spoke.


	5. Be afraid of the lame (II) original

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeking to find a moment of respite from the dreams that haunt him, Sephiroth encounters an older woman for a night of wild passion. 
> 
> Disclaimer: all FFVII characters belong to Square Enix!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING  
> This chapter involves a sexual encounter between Sephiroth and an original character. After receiving painfully disappointed comments and very useful feedback and suggestions, I decided to rewrite the scene to have him be involved with a FFVIIR character instead. This will be chapter 6.
> 
> Therefore feel free to skip this chapter if you're not interested in Seph/OC, since the scene is essentially the same, although each one touches on different issues. They are different people, after all! And if you choose to read this chapter, I hope you enjoy it!

As was customary, Sephiroth washed his hands thoroughly upon entering her quarters. Having removed his boots and weapon, he waited in the dimly-lit ante-room. It was small and cozy, with a wooden floor and a thick curtain veiling the entrance to the main room. Ruby appeared before him clad in the red outfit that had earned her the nickname the boys knew her for. Clinging perfectly to her curvy shape, it was made out of two pieces of semi-transparent fabric. Coming down from her neck, the top garment crossed over itself just under the hollow in her collarbone, and came over each breast, holding them in place but utterly failing at concealing her dark nipples. The skirt fell low in her waist; it was made of two long and thin pieces of the same fabric, linked by a golden cord. She looked the part of a dancer ordained in the cult of an ever-indulgent deity. Her dark hair fell in tight curls until her shoulder blades.

No greetings were exchanged. He approached her and pulled her to his body, feeling every inch of her skin seeking to mold itself against him, and kissed her. She ground herself against him, feeling the hard edges of metal and leather against the soft warmth of her skin, returning the kiss with a passion few other men were able to awaken in her. It was such a shame he made himself so scarce of late.

With his right hand on the small of her back, his left slid downards from her neck, his fingertips caressing the contours of her figure. When he reached her hipbone he pushed the thin fabric aside and caressed the external folds of her cunt, parting them only enough to tease a sole jolt of pleasure from her that forced her to break the kiss with a gasp. Still holding her against him, he brought his hand to her mouth and slid two fingers between her lips, which she immediately sucked, her dark eyes fixed on his.

This time, he dove deeper, caressing the hidden erogenous points inside her, while gently stroking her clitoris with his thumb. She was standing on her tiptoes and was holding on to Sephiroth's neck, her knees bent just enough to allow her pelvis to oscillate to better surf the waves of pleasure. She gave herself completely to each orgasm that coursed through her body, until her spine curved backwards and a jet of liquid exploded from within her and drenched both her skirt and Sephiroth's black pants. Falling forward against his chest, she laughed the laughter of absolute release.

"Oh, my lord, but where have you been!" she exclaimed, still laughing.

Sephiroth unmade her embrace and stepped back from her. Still drugged from her multiple orgasms, Ruby's arms fell limp on either side and her face seemed utterly fazed; she shook her head to step out of the stupor.

"Oh, but I forget myself! You're paying me to pleasure _you_ , not the other way around. What shall it be tonight, my lord?"

Ignoring her question, Sephiroth made his way through the curtain into the main room. He circumvented the bed towards the right and turned off the already dim light of the lamp on the side table. With only one other small lamp alight on the far corner, Ruby's eyes took a few moments to get accustomed to the penumbra. She saw Sephiroth removing his garments unceremoniously with the systematic movements of a soldier. So unlike a man about to seduce his lover. She remembered his usual coldness, but tonight something was amiss.

"You've changed the décor", he commented casually.

She smiled, suddenly relieved.  
"Why, yes. It's nice of you to notice, general."

He grunted as he undid the his trousers, his back to her.

"I wanted something more... Inviting, I guess. Something more genuine, and less..."

"Less like the rooms of a prostitute?" he finished for her.

She put her fists against her hips, and looked to the side.

"Yes. Maybe so", she said dryly.

Completely naked, Sephiroth walked to her. He brought his hand to her chin and gently nudged her to look at him.

"The world makes of us what it will and we often aren't offered a choice. We all must sell our body for a price. You offer yours for pleasure; I lend mine for war. One isn't worthier than the other." Tears streamed down her face and she struggled to look him in the eye.

He bent down and kissed her, finding her lips wet and trembling. She laughed bitterly, shaking her head.

"I'm an idiot. After all these years, it still gets to me sometimes. Please excuse me."

"There is nothing to excuse. I would, however, request your services for tonight."

"Yes. Yes, of course." She dried her tears with the back of her hand.

"Then come." He took her hand and gently guided her towards the bed. It took her that moment to snap back to the present moment, and fully appraise the vision she had before her. It never failed to take her breath away: his silver hair encased between the wide shoulders, following the line of his spine down his toned back, covering partly those perfect buttocks, which she fancied as two perfect halves of a ripe melon. Little drops ran down her legs, remnants of their recent encounter, and she shuddered with anticipation and desire.

He sat on the edge and brought her to stand closer to him between his legs, looking up to meet her eyes.

"I am going to ask you for something slightly different this time. I trust you will know what to do, but if at any point you feel uncomfortable, please let me know and we will stop."

His solemn tone put her on her guard. Whenever a client said something along those lines, she visualised the scars that marked her body. Silver slivers of the past serving as testament of her helplessness. Declining was not a luxury she could afford, and not just money-wise. Men could be dangerous for women, especially if they believed they should not be denied. Her voice betrayed her.

"My lord," she began. "I'm not sure I -"

"Please open the case I brought. I will explain, and then you can decide."

With a knot in her throat, she went to where the pile of his clothes lay, all perfectly folded and piled on a chair. Next to it, a small suitcase she had failed to see when he first came in. She lifted it and found it heavy for its size, and lay it on the bed. Sephiroth watched her, in silence. She knew what she was going to find inside, and the hand of trepidation made a fist in hee stomach. There was a reason why she didn't keep that array of material herself. She opened the case, and even in the dim light there was no space for confusion. Her fingers caressed the leather strips while she tried to hold back the tears.

"What-", he voice broke. She cleared her throat. "I mean, I'm not sure-, it's not something I...-"

"The equipment is not essential", Sephiroth said. She looked at him, confused.

"Then what will it be?" She asked, already feeling the stress building up in her body.

"I do not intend to use these on you, if that's the reason of your concern."

"Then..." she paused, and her eyes opened wide with understanding. She stood in silence for two full breaths. Sephiroth pushed himself up and came to her, standing behind her. He pushed her hair aside over her shoulder and softly caressed the shape of her spine at her neck.

"Tonight I want you to take control. I want to go to a place of complete oblivion, and I need your assistance to get there. Through pleasure or pain, it's up to you."

Ruby shivered under his touch. The array of possibilities that suddenly opened before her in her mind was infinite, but they were cut short by the weight of responsibility of having Sephiroth, the General himself, completely at her mercy. What if he was disappointed? What would happen to her then? And would she allow herself to pass on this opportunity? Somebody less experienced might have cowered at the prospect, but Ruby's lips curved into a mischievous smile.

She closed the lid of the case and turned to face him, all trace of dwarfing fear gone.

"Well then, my lord, you should get on the bed. And wait for me, on your knees."

The game was on. He did as he bid her as she left the room; after a moment she returned with a hairband, and instructed him to put his hair up in a ponytail. Obedient, he did as she bid him and waited on his knees, sitting back on his heels. She opened the case again and took out a black riding crop.

"Now, I want you on all fours, with your butt as high as you can get it."

He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes reflecting her playfulness.

"Come on my lord", she purred, "I know you're a sucker for following orders, so don't keep me waiting... Or I'll have to use more... Forceful... Methods." She grinned.

He got on his hands and knees and curved his spine downwards so his ass was fully exposed.

"Mhm, very nice. I might get used to seeing you like this, my lord. Now, needless to say, you will not speak or touch me unless instructed to, except to say the safeword of your choice. What will it be?"

"That won't be necessary. I am extremely resistant to physical pain. Nothing you can do to me would be serious enough, so do anything your heart desires."

"Very well." She got on the bed next to him. Her fingers reached down to the inner skin of his knee and began caressing their way upwards, carefully avoiding his testicles but making sure to return to route over his anus, and up his backbone. When she reached his neck, she pushed his head down, so his forehead rested on the mattress, between his arms.

"Now this is as high as you can get that nice butt. You will heed my instructions to the letter, my lord, not just half way."

She made the way back caressing his side, until she reached his hipbone. The light touch sent shivers all the way to his toes, and his raging erection bumped against his toned abdominal muscles. She raised to her knees behind him and put both hands on his hips, bringing him to hump against her. She then reached for his ponytail and pulled it back until his head was propped upwarwards.

"I believe I could ride you like this, hmm? Wouldn't you like that, my lord? To have done to you what you've done to women so often?"

"I wou-"

The snap cut his phrase, as a bolt of pain and heat reached him from his buttocks.

"I didn't give you permission to speak, did I now?" She slapped his buttocks again with the crop. "Do not interrupt me when I'm talking."

She let go of his hair and came up to his face. She undid the knot that kept her top in place and used it as a blindfold over his eyes. The smell of her perfume would fill his nostrils even if she was standing behind him. It was intoxicating.

He heard her turning the tap of a bottle and the dripping of liquid. Suddenly she gripped his hard cock, her hand slippery with oil. he groaned with pleasure. His cock was hot and hard in her palm, as she curled her fingers around it and stroked it very, very slowly. Sephiroth started panting against the bedsheets, his hands clenched tight.

"Oh? Does my lord like this...?" She increased the pressure of her grip. He moaned. "But I think it's not hard enough for me yet. You see, I want this tasty cock hard as a rock before I can do anything with it. Luckily for you, I know a shortcut."

He felt a thick liquid falling through the crease between his buttcheeks, and Ruby's warm hand sliding over his muscles, following the path the liquid had made. With her other hand still firmly holding his erection, she began caressing the sensitive skin around his anus. Instinctively, every fibre of his body tensed.

He remembered the part of military training where they were told what to do if captured and tortured in a variety of ways, so as to endure the punishment and not disclose any vital information to the enemy. He clearly visualised the diagram where they explained how, when penetrated from behind, the prostate would be stimulated, and how often an erection would ensue.

"Don't worry, boys, if this happens to you, know that you're not weak, it's just a normal response of the body", the veteran had said in all seriousness.

Sephiroth had noticed how some of the men had winked to one another, probably a promise to try it out in practice later. Sephiroth hadn't been interested (much to the disappointment of many), and as long as it didn't interfere with the camaraderie, to each their own preferences.

"Relax, my lord." Ruby's whisper reached him almost like she was talking through a loudspeaker, so enhanced was his hearing now he was blindfolded. "Tension is the enemy of pleasure."

He breathed out slowly, separated his knees and dove deeper in the posture he was holding. He visualised his anus and relaxed the muscles, fighting the reflex that tightened every time Ruby's fingers touched it.

"That's it, good boy... Now I'm going to put..."she said as she slid one finger inside, "one finger. Uuhh, this is tight! Mmm, let's see what happens when I do this."

She began moving her finger slowly, in and out, aided by the oily emulsion that coated his skin. She masturbated him at the same unhurried rhythm as she penetrated him from behind, and he couldn't help but moan, his voice muffled against the soft fabric. The perfect synchronization of her strokes on both erogenous zones was enough to bring him to the brink of desperation. It took him all his willpower to stay put, unmoving, instead of pushing her on the bed and fucking her throat until he came.

Never ceasing the attention to his butthole, she dropped her hand from his penis, and just when he was about to complain, he felt the wetness of her mouth encircling his erection.

"Ugh", he grunted.

"Oh?" He heard her voice coming from under his torso. "You wouldn't dare coming without my permission, would you now, my lord?"

He felt her reaching away for something, her weight shifting the angles of the bed.

"I think you're ready to spice things up a bit, right my lord?" she teased. "You will feel something hard and cold - make sure to relax your ass as much as possible."

Sephiroth felt the unforgiving coldness of the metallic surface against his sensitive skin, and the folds of his anus expanding to give way to the buttplug she was slowly pushing in. The adrenaline of feeling being split in two coursed through his spine, mixed with exhilaration and a completely unprecedented surge of pleasure.

She returned her mouth to his throbbing cock, maintaining the buttplug in place, and started sucking on him furiously, his gland bumping against the back of her throat without respite. Sephiroth started screaming, his body lost in the sweet agony of abandoning himself in pleasure. She felt his testicles contract, preparing for the final release, and retreated completely. In his frustration, Sephiroth growled.

She pushed him and he fell on his back, still blindfolded, and panting. He felt her weight on both sides of his torso and pictured her standing over him; the end of the crop against his chin, forcing him to bring his head backwards, exposing his neck.

"Now, my lord, it's your turn to do some work." And Sephiroth felt the warmth of her skin against his shoulders and the smell of her arousal as her pussy touched his lips. He instantly began licking her folds, finding her hard clitoris ready and waiting. He put his hands on her thighs to bring her closer to him. He got lost in her screams of pleasure as she rocked her hips against his tongue. When she reached orgasm, he almost chocked on the liquid that spurted from her cunt.

Trembling, she stood up over him and pulled from him to get on all fours once more. This time, she let oil drip directly from the bottle onto his skin, and she massaged it all over, making sure not an inch was left unattended. Between massaging the different parts of his body, she stroked his erection two or three times, hard and fast. She wanted him permanently on the brink of ejaculation, and every muscle in his body was burning with tension, desire and need.

She suddenly let go, and pulling from his hair brought him up to sit on his heels. He looked like a mighty warrior god, perfect like a chiseled idol. She moved behind him, pulled his head back, and brought her lips close to his ear.

"Now, my lord, fuck my brains out."

In one single movement, Sephiroth grabbed her and pinned her down on the bed. Without removing the fold from his eyes or a single word of acknowledgement, he separated her legs with his knee, and plunged into her depths. He fucked her hard and fast, barely registering the moans from her throat that lingered in the liminal space between pleasure and pain. His entire body was rippling with electrical jolts that reached from his cock all the way to his scalp. He was probably crushing her under his weight, but he didn't care. He kept thrusting inside her, urgently, desperately.

"Come for me", he barely heard her voice through his frenzied daze. "Come deep inside me."

He thrust one last time, feeling his erection explode within the containment of her flesh, letting go completely with a cry of relief. He just managed to to move slightly to the side before collapsing, spent and sated, next to her.

Moments passed where all that could be heard was their mutual ragged breathing. Ruby knew she shouldn't, but she came closer and snuggled next to him. Instinctively, he put a hand over her body, and she enjoyed the contrast it portrayed: his paleness against her black skin. Contented, she allowed herself to fall asleep.

When she woke up a few hours later, she was alone, but she wasn't surprised - it was his trademark. He never liked to linger in the afterglow for long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that took several days to write! Who knew sex required so many words...? *Sigh*  
> I feel like this this story is evolving in its own way, since it is already way longer and much more complicated than what I had in mind originally. In fact, I have to do some research in order to write something that actually fits within the OG/Remake/Compilation timeline. It's fascinating, but it takes forever!  
> Regarding the original character Ruby, I tried to think of a character from the game that could fit in the role but didn't find one, so she came out as a mix between Arianne Martell (Game of Thrones books) and Samira Wiley's Moira (The handmaid's tale, when she is forced into prostitution). And of course a bit from my own experience ^_^  
> I hope you enjoy it! As always, all comments welcome, and feel free to give me any feedback that you think could help the story, either to improve it or to push it along.  
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Be afraid of the lame (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeking to find a space where he can let go of his worries, Sephiroth meets with an older woman who knows him quite well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER
> 
> This chapter is a rewrite of chapter 5. I decided to give it a try after receiving very interesting feedback and different ideas to explore. 
> 
> I want to specially thank Tannarys, KyuubiPandoraChan, Mitsuya Eli and Meteorpanda. Thank you for your comments and support <3
> 
> As always, let me know what you think if you feel so inclined, I'd be delighted to read your opinions!

Every time Sephiroth used to make his way to sector 6, he made sure to cover his hair with a hooded cloak and change into civilian clothes. His height and build would easily betray his identity, but the cover of night and the varying degrees of inebriation of the regulars helped make his cover believable. When he reached the parlour, a young woman was waiting by the entrance, whom he identified as the Madam's personal assistant. A flicker of recognition passed her eyes when he approached her, and she wordlessly bid him follow her through an alleyway and across a backdoor, into the building.

He found himself in a luxurious bedroom, with a richly dressed bed, thick rugs and silken curtains. A sliding paper door separated it from the outer world, painted with motifs of cranes and bamboo. Madam's assistant bowed in silence and left, her mission complete. As was customary, he knelt before the small wooden basin that had been laid in the center of the room, and washed his hands and face before drying them with the hot towels provided. He remembered the times back then, when she'd made him wait like this, sometimes for several hours, to spend the briefest of moments with her. But the youthful fervor that pushed him to seek her - and others, for that matter - had slowly dwindled over the last 2 years.

The door slid open and Madam M. leaned against the wooden frame, her arm stretched for her hand to rest on the door. Her black satin kimono was decorated with golden shibori, and it clung to her slender figure like a glove. The red obi at her waist offered a startling contrast, highlighting the crimson of her lips. A strategic opening revealed her delicate, pale foot, that invited the eyes to seek higher, discovering she had chosen to show her leg until just above the knee. The thin fabric acted more as an enticing invitation than as a visual barrier.

"Well, well", she said, smiling. Her other hand held her ubiquitous fan, open and leaning against her shoulder. "If it isn't the lord General himself. Long time no see."

Sephiroth bowed his head. She looked as lovely as he remembered her: elegance was her signature in both style and demeanor.

"M. Indeed, a long time." He looked around, appraising the luxurious details that dressed the room. "I am glad the business is going well."

She chuckled and allowed herself in, sliding the door closed behind her. Fanning herself lazily, she sat on the futon and rested her weight back on her free hand.

"Yes, it is going well. It's taken me a lot of effort, if you must know, to turn this place into a respectable establishment. And a reference for my hand massage technique! Would you guess, even topside folks seek me out."

"Congratulations, M. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, darling. But let's get to the point, shall we? As delighted as I am to see you, I have the feeling you haven't come searching for a hand massage. Am I correct?"

"You are." Sephiroth stood up in one graceful movement, walked over to her and held out his hand. When she took it, he lifted her and brought her waist against him, holding her gaze.

"I was hoping", he purred, "that you would agree to a session like the ones we used to have."

He bent down to drop a light kiss on her neck, and he felt her melting in his arms. Just as quickly, however, she tensed and pushed against him to release herself from the embrace.

"Oh, darling" she said, gravely. "I'm retired now - I only intimate with people's hands. Separating pleasure from work is a rule I impose on my business."

"I see", he said, his disappointment evident.

"I'm a renowned professional now, I need to maintain a certain reputation." She realised she had no reason to justify herself, but still felt a need to do it, and that angered her. "But I'm sure there are plenty of places where you can sate your... needs for tonight. Just not here", she finished with a biting tone.

Sephiroth shook his head, locks of hair shading his expression.

"M., you know I'm not one to insist. What I need now cannot be found elsewhere, I'm afraid. I respect your choice, so I will leave." He bowed to her. "Thank you for your time, it was good to see you again."

He turned to the door, when he felt the soft slap of her closed fan against his arm.

"Wait."

Surprised, he turned around. She had been moved by his sincerity, and appraised him from head to feet. She would never admit to him the grudge she had been holding for forfeiting her services after what they had shared over the years. To her, he had never been just another client - he was so young when they met, but oh! so gentle, so much older than his years. They had enjoyed each other's bodies thoroughly, but in his youthful insecurity he had also confided in her. The age difference had never mattered - they just understood and respected each other.

"I guess..." she began, smiling while she bit her lower lip. "I could make an exception, just for tonight."

Sephiroth half smiled, his eyes suddenly alive, and nodded once. He made to move towards her, but she opened her fan in front of him.

"On one condition. We will play by my rules. Agreed?"

"Of course. I'm at your command, madam."

"Well then, master General, enough talking. I want you to strip down - whatever it is you're wearing is utterly unbecoming." She fanned herself leisurely as she spoke.

He looked at her with a half smile as he began unbuttoning his shirt. M looked at him approvingly as he slipped the fabric back over his shoulders and down his arms, revealing the most perfect torso she had ever seen. He cocked his head sideways and looked at her while he caressed his hipbones and followed the waistband of his trousers, unzipping them slowly. He separated the pieces of the fly just enough to tease a peek of his muscles making their way down to his groin.

M hadn't noticed that she had stopped the waving motion of her fan, or that her lips were slightly parted. Sephiroth slid his trousers down and discarded them on a chair, and stood naked shamelessly before her. It took her a moment to realise she was staring, and cleared her throat.

"Good. Now wait for me on the bed."

The game was on. He did as he bid her as she left the room; after a moment she returned with a small suitcase and handed him a hairband, instructing him to put his hair up in a ponytail. Obedient, he tied his hair and waited on his knees, sitting back on his heels. She opened the case and took out a piece of orange silk and a black riding crop.

"Now, I want you on all fours, with that butt of yours as high as you can get it."

He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes reflecting her playfulness.

"Come on, lord General", she purred, "I know you're a sucker for following orders as the good military dog that you are, so don't keep me waiting... Or I'll have to use more... Forceful... Methods." She grinned.

He got on his hands and knees and curved his spine downwards so his ass was fully exposed.

"Mhm, very nice. I might get used to seeing you like this, darling. Now, needless to say, you will not speak or touch me unless instructed to, except to say the safeword of your choice. What will it be?"

"That won't be necessary, madam."

"Well, aren't you cocky, huh? Very well." She got on the futon next to him and slid the silk over his eyes, her skillful fingers tying the knot to the blindfold with care. The mere brush against his hair sent a ripple of goosebumps from his scalp to his toes. He had just arrived, but M's magic was already at work.

She reached down to the inner skin of his knee and began caressing their way upwards, carefully avoiding his testicles but making sure to return to route over his anus, and up his backbone. When she reached his neck, she pushed his head down, so now his forehead rested on the mattress, between his arms.

"Now this is as high as you can get that nice butt. You will need my instructions to the letter, darling, not just half way."

She made the way back caressing his side, until she reached his hipbone. The light touch sent shivers all the way to his toes, and his raging erection bumped against his toned abdominal muscles. She raised to her knees behind him and put both hands on his hips, pressing purposefully key points over his kidneys and pelvic bones. He instantly felt the strained muscles of his back release tension under the delightful pain of her touch. She then reached for his ponytail and pulled it back until his head was propped upwarwards.

"I believe I could ride you like this, hmm? Wouldn't you like that, my lord General?"

"I wou-"

The snap cut his phrase, as a bolt of pain and heat reached him from his buttocks.

"I didn't give you permission to speak, did I?" She slapped his buttocks again with the crop. "Do not interrupt me when I'm talking."

He felt her weight shift as she left the bed momentarily.

"Link your hands at your back. Yes, just like that", she said, and Sephiroth, with his face flat against the bedsheets, felt the toughness of rope coiling around his wrists. The cinch knot would handcuff his hands together tight enough for him to have to struggle to break it apart. The knot ready, M. janked from the rope as if from a leash, and smiled appreciatively.

He then heard her turning the tap of a bottle, and the dripping of liquid. Suddenly she gripped his hard cock, her hand slippery with oil. He groaned with pleasure, his voice muffles. His cock was hot and hard in her palm, as she curled her fingers around it and stroked it very, very slowly. As she run her hand over his member, she exerted small pinches of pressure near the base and the head, making his bloodflow follow wherever she touched. Sephiroth started panting against the bedsheets, his hands in a fist.

"Oh? Does my lord General like this...?" She increased the pressure of her grip. He moaned. "My, my, so much tension accumulated here, we'll have to do something about it. It's a matter of staying healthy, of course. But I think it's not hard enough for me to be able to work with it. Luckily for you, I know just the thing."

He felt a thick liquid falling through the crease between his buttcheeks, and M's warm hand sliding over his muscles, following the path the liquid had made. With her other hand still firmly holding his erection, she began caressing the sensitive skin around his anus. Instinctively, every fibre of his body tensed.

He remembered the part of military training where they were told what to do if captured and tortured in a variety of ways, so as to endure the punishment and not disclose any vital information to the enemy. He clearly visualised the diagram where they explained how, when penetrated from behind, the prostate would be stimulated, and how often an erection would ensue.

"Don't worry, boys, if this happens to you, know that you're not weak, it's just a normal response of the body", the veteran had said in all seriousness.

Sephiroth had noticed how some of the men had winked to one another, probably a promise to try it out in practice later. Sephiroth hadn't been interested, and as long as it didn't interfere with the camaraderie, to each their own choices.

"Relax, darling." M's voice reached him almost like she was talking through a loudspeaker, so enhanced was his hearing now he was blindfolded. "Tension is the enemy of pleasure."

He breathed out slowly, separated his knees and dove deeper in the posture he was holding. Aware that he could tear the rope just by trying to separate his wrists, he visualised his anus and relaxed the muscles, fighting the reflex that tightened every time M's fingers touched it.

"That's it, good boy... Now I'm going to put..."she said as she slid one finger inside, "one finger. Uuhh, this is tight! Mmm, let's see what happens when I do this."

She began moving her finger slowly, in and out, aided by the oily emulsion that coated his skin. She masturbated him at the same unhurried rhythm as she penetrated him from behind, and he couldn't help but moan, his voice muffled against the soft fabric. The perfect synchronization of her strokes on both erogenous zones was enough to bring him to the brink of desperation. It took him all his willpower to stay put, unmoving, instead of pushing her on the bed and fucking her throat until he came.

Never ceasing the attention to his butthole, she dropped her hand from his penis, and just when he was about to complain, he felt the wetness of her mouth encircling his erection.

"Ugh", he grunted.

"Oh?" He heard her voice coming from under his torso. "You wouldn't dare coming without my permission, would you now, my lord General?"

He felt her reaching away for something, her weight shifting the angles of the bed.

"I think you're ready for the deeper part of the massage, hmm?" she teased. "You will feel something hard and cold - make sure to relax as much as possible."

Sephiroth felt the unforgiving coldness of a metallic surface against his sensitive skin, and the folds of his anus expanding to give way to the buttplug she was slowly pushing in. The adrenaline of feeling being split in two coursed through his spine, mixed with exhilaration and a completely unprecedented surge of pleasure.

She returned her mouth to his throbbing cock, maintaining the buttplug in place, and started sucking on him furiously, his gland bumping against the back of her throat without respite. Sephiroth started screaming, his body lost in the sweet agony of abandoning himself in pleasure. She felt his testicles contract, preparing for the final release, and retreated completely. In his frustration, Sephiroth growled.

She took the bottle again and she let oil drip directly from the bottle onto his skin. She massaged it all over his body, making sure not an inch was left unattended. Between massaging the diffrenet sections, she stroked his erection two or three times, hard and fast. She wanted him permanently on the verge of ejaculation, and every muscle in his body was burning with tension, desire and need.

She suddenly let go, and pulling from his hair brought him up to sit on his heels. He looked like a mighty warrior god, perfect like a chiseled idol. She moved behind him, efficiently undid the knot of rope and and let his hands free. She pulled his head back, and brought her lips close to his ear.

"Now, masturbate for me."

Obediently, he brought trembling fingers to his cock and gingerly caressed himself. The was so sensitive it almost hurt, but he nevertheless propped himself up using his other hand as support and encircled the swollen flesh in his hand. He tightened his buttocks and brought his pelvis forward, aware he was putting on a spectacle for M. It was unbearable, the excruciatingly painful pleasure that shook him like a bolt of electricity; he rocked his hips forward and backward, fucking his own hand, his throat caught in the space between moan and cry.

A fiery slap on his cock nearly drove him over the edge; confused in his frenzy, he stopped masturbating, and another slap crossed his cheek.

"Did I tell you to stop? Keep going." M's voice was a threatening whisper. "And don't you dare come without my permission."

His cock was now sore from the touch of the crop, and he knew that probably just touching it would make him come. Seeking to ease the friction, he picked the palm of his hand and went back to work, slowly, carefully.

She slapped him across the other cheek, and he smelled the metallic tinge of blood.

"Faster."

He began screaming. His dick was about to explode, or melt, or fucking disintegrate. He lost track of time and space: he couldn't feel anything beyond the violent throbbing of his dick in his hand.

He feel forward and barely managed to steady himself with his free hand. A slap on his buttcheeks. Another ragged scream.

"Now, come for me."

His whole body convulsed as he let go of any attempt at trying to hold it in any longer. He ejaculated with a vengeance, spilling over the luscious bedsheets, with a scream of release that shook him to his core.

He collapsed sideways, trembling and unable to move. Madame M sat next to him, letting his body process the intensity, and after undoing the blindfold, stroked his hair gently. She would never expose him, not even before himself: that is why she decided to keep the tears rolling down his bleeding cheeks as another unspoken secret she would guard for him.

When he had eased into slumber, she covered him with the top bedsheet and quietly left the room.

* * *

Sephiroth had emerged from the shower and dressed when the door slid open, to reveal the woman who had guided him earlier, kneeling on the floor.

"If you are quite ready, mister Sephiroth, Madam M bids you join her at the tea parlour."

"Thank you."

"This way", she beckoned.

Madam M. sat on the cushion by a low lacquered table, sipping tea from a glazed chawan cup. Sephiroth joined her and she waved to her assistant to dismiss her. She picked up the matching teapot and poured the steaming liquid on another cup. With both hands, she offered it to him, and he accepted gratefully. The astringent flavour was punctuated by discreet floral notes, and he instantly appreciated the aromatic warmth as it reached his lips.

They sat in silence for several moments, contemplating the change of light as night retreated.

"I hope you found what you were looking for", Madam M. said, sipping her tea.

"I expected I would. Thank you, M."

"Hmm", she replied, and smiled sadly. "I see you haven't changed one bit."

Sephiroth arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"You still say that to mean that it was merely good enough when you are searching for the sublime. Shh", she commanded him, as he was about to respond. "I understand. You're still searching for that something you can't quite place. Don't worry about me, I can settle for good enough - the perks of experience."

He lowered his gaze and hummed his noncommittal reply. Madam M. had resorted to fanning herself with a vengeance, and he attempted to shift the mood.

"Speaking of the sublime... how is it going with... Chocobo Sam?"

Madam M. spat her tea and almost dropped her cup. She slapped him playfully with her fan on his shoulder.

"Don't you even dare mention him to me! Ugh! I should have never told you!"

Sephiroth chuckled.

"He might yet convince you to give him a chance. He seemed determined, from what I recall."

She fanned herself vigorously.

"No way, darling. That will never happen. But enough about me. I want to know why you haven't visited me in so long."

He sat in silence, weighing his words carefully. He had always trusted her to keep secret the parts of him he rarely showed to others.

"M., you know how it always was for me. The overwhelming availability of everything I could desire, and beyond. The women were... I suppose that when you overindulge in delicatessen as often as I used to, you eventually lose your appetite for even the finest bites."

"Is that what brought you to me tonight, you want to rekindle your appetite?"

"No." He paused. "I wanted - no -, needed, to ease my mind. To forget that I... That I have done the unspeakable."

"Darling, you are a soldier. Whatever could it be you're being asked to do now that you haven't done before?" M. asked, sympathetic.

"I have... Ordered the murder of my closest friend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! This was fun to write, and I needed to get that first kink out of my system before I could continue with the story. I'm myself curious to see what will happen next hehe
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Good boy

He knew it wouldn't be enough. Seeking to escape the scarring of the dreamscape he had sought to drown in the material solidity of the flesh, to no avail. Madam M. had offered him the calm oasis of understanding silence, but where his pain dwelled she could never reach.

He began spending his nights in the training room, measuring himself against the most hideous of Hojo's creatures, dancing in a swamp of blood, bone and brain matter. Regardless the degree of extenuation, whenever he held his blade his strength and precision never faltered. Sleepless nights were better than the torture of reenacting the same dream in a never-ending loop.

The days he spent in his office, behind a barricade of files and reports. His writing turned from the meticulous traces of a calligrapher to the frenzied scribbles of a doctor; the notion of time completely erased between paragraphs and envelopes, his agitation subdued but ever palpitating.

Commander Fair hadn't yet reported backofficially, but loose news reached him from the brief exchanges of the Turks. Tseng had sent a quick telegram that very morning.

_g unmet unseen stop parents grave found stop a sighted stop_

Sephiroth had patiently waited until the end of the working day to access the SOLDIER archive, since he wasn't in the mood to be questioned. He had never ventured into the archive: for day to day management he could easily rely on his secretary to traffic files and folders from the more recent repositories. However, he realised now, the main reason was he had never felt compelled to ask questions beyond what was strictly necessary for the operationalization of his missions. To him, information was yet another tool to do his job well, not a thread to pull from.

_My dear boy, why you would want to know more about your mother is beyond me. Yes, yes, of course our origins define us as humans and all that sentimental theorizing - but you are so much more than that! Or is it that you don't like it here, hmm? Asking questions shows you are weak. Do you want to be weak, a worthless failure? Of course you don't... Because then you wouldn't be able to stay here... and where would you go?_

Every step that brought him closer to the room echoed with the chords of an old adagio he hadn't returned to in years; the well known beats of a budding anxiety. Of course as a child he'd had questions; about his parentage, his childhood, his very existence. The man who would have answered them truthfully was dead, and the man still living was unapproachable and unreliable. He now felt an unforeseen trepidation about what he might find, because nobody ever asked about SOLDIER - silent acquiescence has always been part of the unspoken contract.

_Power and fame in exchange for a blind eye. A small price to pay._

But now, the rules had changed.

The door was locked, as expected. However, when his access card only returned a negative beep, Sephiroth betrayed his annoyance with a slight twitch in his right eye. It would have never occurred to him there'd be an inaccessible room for the General of SOLDIER below floor 65. He contemplated simply busting through the door, which would require but one swift push; as he placed his hand to turn the knob, the metal handle turned under his skin and the door suffered a jerk inwards.

A surprised pair of eyes looked up at him through bifocal lens. If Sephiroth had ever been exposed to children's cartoons, he might have compared the man to a library mouse with a wig and glasses. HeIHe embodied a calm grace and a boyish sort of charm. Sephiroth brought his suspended hand in a fist over his chest and bowed deeply.

"Director, sir."

"Ah, General Sephiroth." Lazard greeted him in turn with a nod and a tired smile. "The man of the hour! And precisely who I wanted to talk to."

Sephiroth stepped aside to let him out of the archive room, and Lazard closed the door behind him and inconspicuously locked it with a special code. He was carrying several files against his chest, and as he turned Sephiroth managed to read scribbled over one of them "project G". It meant nothing to him, but made a mental note of the name for later inspection.

"Walk with me, General." Lazard led the way through the corridor and out into a wider lounge. The place was deserted, and the window let it the nightly glow of Midgar. Sephiroth kept in line, impatient at the sudden interruption, but very curious as well. The director of SOLDIER seemed plucked out of his natural habitat and placed in charge of the huge bulldozer Shinra's military had become. As his direct superior, he rarely requested one-on-one strategic or tactical meetings, and Sephiroth had always wondered at his laissez-faire policy. His gentle manner did not for one second invite condescension or exhude weakness, but neither did it impose respect or obeyance. Never had he met a less war-prone man: how he had reached his current a position was a mystery.

"As you are aware, General, we are finding ourselves in a difficult situation. Your friends," he said, never turning to look at Sephiroth, "are excelling at damaging our hard earned reputation as the victors of the war against Wutai."

He sighed, and pushed his glasses up over his nose. "Such a waste of potential. In any case..." he turned to Sephiroth. "What is your analysis of the situation?"

 _Your friends_ echoed in his ears, and he cleared his throat before responding.

"Somebody must have helped Genesis from the inside. On his own, he would not have been able to secure the cooperation of such a number of troops." Sephiroth held his hand on his chin, pensive. "He seems intent on some fashion of revenge against Shinra, but it goes further. The Turks report he has murdered his parents."

"I see," Lazard responded, monochord.

"Genesis has proved better at guerrilla tactics than as an enforcer of the law as a SOLDIER," Sephiroth continued. "And then there's the matter of his copies -"

"Shinra will deny those have anything to do with SOLDIER."

"Of course, that's standard Shinra policy. However, the problem remains -"

"Something for you to manage as head of the first class division. They must be eradicated, but with discretion. Their origin is classified information and I am not cleared to divulge more to you."

Sephiroth looked at Lazard, incredulous, his hand slowly clenching into a fist as frustration boiled in his chest.

"Sir, with all due respect, how am I to fulfill this mission without any further information about the technology that is enabling their reproduction?"

Lazard brought his fore and middle fingers to his forehead and breathed heavily. Sephiroth noticed a small clench of his muscles around the folder he was holding in his other arm, and his vision blurred for a moment.

_Two graves in front of him._

"General, you know better than to ask questions. The scientific division is currently the cornerstone of the company and they are reaching unprecedented breakthroughs. SOLDIER benefits greatly from the scientific advancement, so long as we don't stick our nose where it doesn't belong. We are enforcers, not researchers."

Before Sephiroth could protest, Lazard raised his hand, imposing silence. His regard was hard, inescrutable, and there - there it was: the kind of attitude that had enabled him to raise this high.

"Shinra must prevail if we are to continue to guarantee world peace and development. This is what is going to happen: we will declare both Genesis and Angeal missing in action, and you will prepare a special force to deal with them outside the public eye. You are expected to lead that team and deal with it all swiftly, and you will depart as soon as the Turks report on the location of the resistance."

_A heavy chain leading from his heart to each gravestone._

A second went by. Then another. Sephiroth was too much of a professional to let his inner tremor show.

"Yes, sir. At your command."

Lazard touched Sephiroth in his upper arm, in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring. It took Sephiroth s great deal of self-awareness to stay put instead of recoiling instinctively.

"My friend, there are things better left buried. We are a family here, and to belong we must make compromises. And in exchange for our loyalty," he patted Sephiroth's arm, "Shinra rewards us."

_The girl in the dress, kneeling by a pool._

"Information," he said, slowly. "It is my duty and I will fulfill it as required. But it is my prerogative to ask for access to a set of restricted information, at the risk of being denied."

Lazards eyes looked entertained, and a shade of condescension lifted the corner of his lips.

"Is that so? Very well, I will consider it. What would you like to access?"

"I want to know about my mother, Jenova."

Lazard blinked, his expression betraying nothing.

"I see..." He murmured, more to himself than to his interlocutor. "That could be... Yes." He turned to Sephiroth. "It is important to know about our origins, is it not? Mother, and father..." He smiled warmly. "I'll see what I can do."

Sephiroth bowed. Lazard began to make his back to the elevators, and as the doors opened, he called back to him.

"When all this is done, you might want to visit Nibelheim." And he saluted him with two fingers as the glass door sealed him in to take him to the upper floors.

In the silence of night, two questions resounded in his brain.

_What the fuck is project G? And why on the planet does that flower girl assault my thoughts?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AeriSeph encounter coming up next!


End file.
